xmansion | [Open log]

Entry tags:

open log

[Open log]

Who: Scott Summers and you!
Where: Mostly in the school but if you want him anywhere else just let me know
When: Afternoon
Warnings: Scott being ...Scott.
Prompts:

[1. The mansion’s corridor, post mission]

The day started so normal, with a sunny day and regular classes, that Scott hadn’t been all that surprised when it all went to tell before the second period started. Because he had learned long ago that nice things were a luxury in their lives. And so, the x-men had been called to assist an anti-mutant protest in Portland that escalated into a riot. All things considered, it could have ended much worse. People were arrested and some got hurt but there had been no casualties and only relatively amount of property damage. The ‘no casualties’ on itself had been a miracle given how many of the riots had brought gun or knives with them.

And now that they were all back in the mansion, Scott was heading towards his room and trying to avoid Hank, still wearing the suit. The last thing he needed is to be dragged to the medbay, he was totally fine. Okay, yes, his ribs were a bit bruised but probably not broken, probably, and he was only limping because his knee took a hit after he pushed a civilian out of the way of a row of bullets. It was nothing a hot shower and some painkillers won’t fix, he’s had it worse in the past. If he can make it to his room, that’s it.

[2.The school’s kitchen | Later afternoon.]

If anybody happened to wander into the kitchen, they might find an uncommon sight. It wasn’t as if Scott didn’t like to cook, quite the opposite, it was that he hardly had the time. But Ororo’s birthday was tomorrow and he wanted to prepare something special for her.

Cooking was methodic, relaxing, and if you messed it up you could eat the evidence. To any observer it would also be clear that Scott knew his way around the kitchen, where to find the ingredients, pots or mold he needed. Ororo’s cake, a strawberry cream one, was now cooling on the counter, and Scott was flipping through cook book pages looking for an idea of what to do next.

[3. Open choice]

-Go an idea you want to play out? Feel free to write the starter.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Perhaps it was merely a coincidence that the newest member of the Mansion's staff, Dr Liz Masters, was making her way down the stairs from the staff apartments on the top floor at exactly the same time that Scott was on his way up returning from a mission. But Liz wasn't the kind of person to set things up, and in fact were Scott to ask she'd say she left her notepad in her room out of absent-mindedness and had to go and get it, and she's rifling through it as she descends, almost bumping into Scott along the way.

"Oh hello Scott I was just going to...whoa!"

It was obviously the first time that Liz had ever seen the x-suit, going by the surprised way her eyes sweep over that skintight leather, her cheeks turning a little pinker at just how tight it was. It's obvious she's more than a little flustered, although she hid it by pushing her hair up and hoiking her gaze back up to his face where she should be looking and not ogling the black leather hotness.

"I didn't realise that was official teacher uniform, when do I get mine fitted?" She joked, grinning up at him with an infectious smile.

Scott wasn't hoping to make it to his room unnoticed but today luck really wasn't in his favor. At least it was a teacher who found him and not a student or Hank. He straightened as much as his injured ribs allowed it and gave the blond woman a polite smile.

"Miss Masters, sorry for startling you." Because he imagined that's what had caused her reaction. If Scott noticed her flushed face, he attributed it to her surprise. His smile grew more natural and warm at her joke.

"Oh don't worry, we don't start with the leather until the third year teaching here." That sounded...a little wrong, even to his ears, so Scott amended it quickly. "I'm back form a mission. We ran into some trouble in Portland but nothing that couldn't be taken care off."

"Oh, that's ok you didn't really startle me too much." Liz corrected, not even bothering to correct Scott that she was actually Doctor Masters as she would with anyone else.

Internally she was rolling her eyes at how dense Summers was, but then you didn't become the leader of a gang of fools by showing much intelligence.

"Oh well I guess I should get in shape then." Liz giggled, a little girlish before she cut herself off, looking if anything more embarrassed, letting her shift to that offered escape line.

"Oh no I hope everyone's ok?" It had only taken her a brief glance to see that Scott was favouring both his legs and his ribs, an observation she intended to exploit.

She would have to forgive him for the mistake. Had he not been distracted by the pain, Scott would have addressed her properly. As it is, he was mostly concerned with not passing out and maintaining what he thought was an honest, friendly conversation. Oh, if he only knew better.

"You're already in excellent shape." It was said rather casual as if Scott was confirming a fact he believed to be 100% true rather than an attempt at buttering her up. At the question, he tried not to look too guilty. He had always been terrible at lying, so he only did it by omission or avoiding answering, if he could.

"It was a rather eventful situation but there were no major casualties. Just a few bruises here and there."

"Oh...thanks." Liz's cheeks turned even pinker at the compliment, and she did her best not to look too flustered, looking shyly down at her feet, only looking up when he mentioned casualties.

"I have a certificate in first aid if you'd like someone to take a look at you without all the bother of going to the medbay?" She asked, concern for him etched in her kind features. "You do look awfully pale."

Why did men always try to pretend they were in better shape than they actually were? Ego, stupidity or some combination of the two? Either way it made them predictable and in this case gave her exactly the opening she wanted.

Because men were idiots, that was why. More so men who had to lead and thus felt like they had to look like some sort of unbreakable pillar for the rest of people. Scott's whole life and emotional growth had suffered from that mindset.

"I didn't want to bother anybody." But now, for once, he let himself consider her suggestion. His chest hurt when he took a deep breath and it would be for the better to know for sure if his ribs were broken or not. "But if you are sure you're not too busy..."

"Of course not," Liz agreed, smiling sympathetically. "As it happens I have a couple of hours spare before I see Kurt Wagner for a careers session so it's nothing really."

"We could go up to your room? Just in case you need to lie down, you look just about ready to drop." A pity they weren't somewhere a fall would break his neck, but in any case that would be much too risky.

She's very convincing in her attempt at showing that she cares. Even if Scott weren't hurting and tired, he would have bought it. As it is, he offers a small thankful smile for her offer and gives a nod.

"I was heading there and it's close, that would be our best option. Thank you again. "

Now that the cat is out of the bag, there's no point in trying to act so stoic. Scott wraps one of his arms around his chest, nursing his damaged ribs. He walks slowly but still on his own. "Is everything going well with Kurt?"

Fooling people is what she does, and has been doing for far longer than Scott's been alive, her eyes lingering for a split second on that so very tempting target of his back.

"Not a problem!" Liz chirps, following Scott as he leads the way toward his room, appearing not to know what to say until he follows up with a question about Kurt.

"It is yes, I've been sending out the new career assessments to all the students and he's one of my first to interview. It's going to be difficult for him with that appearance but that boy has a bright future in front of him." She'd make sure of it.

Wasn't that the harsh truth. You'd think that with all his experience being an x-men he would be used to deception, and yet... He nods in agreement at her plenty aware of Kurt's long list of difficulties ahead of him.

"He's a brilliant kid, I have no doubt he will be outstanding in anything he chooses to do." And the rest it's a matter of the world allowing him to shine as he deserves. Scott keeps that to himself, though, and opens the door for her when they reach his room.

Usually, whenever something could be smelled baking at the Institute, it was Paige Guthrie having whipped up some sort of new cookie to try. Rogue was about to swing into the kitchen and ask if she could taste test, but the words died in her mouth when she noticed Scott Summers there with a very beautiful looking cake.

"Mr. Summers," she says in greeting as she steps into the kitchen "-did you make that?" She points a gloved finger at the cake.

"Why the tone of surprise?" The answer is light and Scott looks relaxed enough that it should be clear he's in a good mood. Looking up from the book, he offers Rogue a smile and motion for her to take a seat in one of the kitchen chairs if she wants to.

"Ororo's birthday is tomorrow, I wanted to do something special for her. I still have some time so I was going to bake some cookies next." He just hadn't found a recipe he wants to try and can work with the ingredients they had in the fridge. "Any preference?"

"I donno, I just haven't ever seen you baking before. Let alone something that looks so great." She takes the seat offered, turning her face to look at him. "Honestly, I thought you were Paige at first."

Right- it is Storm's birthday. She remembered that now, and nodded. "I think she'll love it. That being said, I'm always a fan of chocolate chip, but I think we got some butterscotch chips, too..."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Marie." Scott feigns being offended for about 2 seconds before he grins, understanding this is not a situation other people catch him in often.

"I cook when I have free time or for special occasions. Today's the later." Free time isn't something Scott indulges into very often, unfortunately. "I didn't know Paige cooked too but I'm glad you think the cake I made look edible."

Scott closes the book, leaving it on the counter. Cookies are easy enough to make, he doesn't need to double check the ingredients. "I could make both."

The use of her first name is unexpected, and she blinks for a moment. She offers him a smile at his joke, but then politely adds: "Rogue, please, if you don't mind, Mr. Summers."

She nods. "Yeah- she's really great at it. I mean, I'm decent as well, Southern charms, all that." She rolls her green eyes. "Seriously though, it's a beautiful cake, she's gonna love it. You just gotta make sure someone doesn't eat it first."

"I was gonna say maybe combine 'em?"

"My apologies, Rogue." He graciously accepts the correction, giving her a small conciliatory look. Scott said it without thinking, distracted as he was. "I'll have to talk Paige intro trading recipes then."

Glancing briefly at the cake, Scott can help but feel a little proud of it. Mostly because it's such a mundane thing to do, something that is just nice, and that sort of things are rare here.

"I'll leave a note warning people not to touch it. I already asked some students to help me keep Ororo away from the kitchen. It's much easier than keeping Jean from figuring out things when it's her birthday, at least 'Ro can't read minds."

Ah, the disadvantages of living with telepaths. it also makes buying Christmas presents difficult.

"Oh, that's a much better option. Any idea where the e butterscotch chips are?"

She nods in appreciation. "Thanks." He gets another small smile for his trouble. Names could get very complicated around here.

"Good idea. I'll do what I can to help, too." Slowly she stands from her chair and starts moving toward the pantry. "It's true- I don't know how you do it. Though I guess it's the thought at keeping gifts secret that counts?"

The pantry extends a few feet back and Rogue disappears for a moment before returning with two bags, one with chocolate chips, the other with butterscotch.

"Here we go."

They can, especially when people find themselves or change their codename, but he needs to pay more attention.

"If she starts to peek into my mind when she shouldn't, I think of a catchy song and then it gets stuck in her head all day." He replies immediately and so casually that it's hard to tell if Scott is being serious or not. And then he adds. "It works with Charles too but he doesn't pry without permission. Jean sometimes can't control it."

Scott worries about her but he usually doesn't mind having his thoughts read. Jean has known him for so long that sharing another part of himself with her isn't that difficult. She's the love of his life and, almost as important, she's his best friend.

As Rogue goes to get the ingredients, Scott starts to preheat the oven and then grab a large mixer bowl to work with. "Thank you. And how's everything going?"

Rogue chuckles at the thought. "That's a pretty good idea," she admits, unsure if he's fully joking or not. She always figured he'd had a sense of humor somewhere- even if he had terrible taste in music.

"It's really great, you know. To see that even our teachers don't have full control." Ironically, Rogue's power granted her full control of anyone else's power she happened to absorb.

"Any time- things're pretty good, really." Things were tense with Bobby, but what did you expect when they'd been together this long? "I think sparring lessons with Logan's really paying off- I feel a whole lot more useful in simulations." She was practically another civilian, with the way she hesitated to use her powers.

He does have a sense of humor but what he told Rogue is also the truth. Scott figured it by accident years ago when he was the one with a song stuck in his head and Jean who suffered through it when she tried to talk to him telepathically. 'Great' isn't the word he would use when it comes to powers not being fully under control but he understands were she's coming from.

We are all only human in the end, and always flawed. But the key is to keep trying to work on those flaws. Scott pauses what he's doing, bowl in hand and frowns slightly I sound like the Professor sometimes, don't I?

After so many years, it's not surprising Charles is rubbing off on him. He gets back to mixing the ingredients a moment later, listening to Rogue and nodding briefly. "That's good to hear. You could do a lot of help out there if you ever felt like joining us in more complicated missions. No pressure, though, it's just an idea."

She wanted to help out. she really did. The X-Men had saved her life a few times, and she was eager to be one of them. She valued her uniform and took pride in wearing it.

"Yeah?" She raises an eyebrow. "Just for combat aid?"

"Unless you are open to trying some more risky missions? Don't feel pressured to do that, though."

Said the guy who started fighting crazy supervillains at sixteen. It's exactly for that reason that he doesn't want her to get into this if Rogue isn't sure she's ready for all the danger and stress.

Logan could smell the cake all throughout his lit class.

That was the thing with baked goods, wasn't it? Even those with sensitive noses could pick it up without any trouble -- making it an even worse hell for folks like Logan, who could sniff people at a distance.

Of course, the brilliant scent had him walking there once the bell rang and the kids were sent to their next periods. Headmaster he might've been, and maybe he had some paperwork to do in his office, but it wasn't often the place smelled so good.

"Holy shit." The sight of the cake, when he saw it, had the corner of his mouth twitching up -- and then he saw Scott, and couldn't help the slight tilt of his head as he pointed at the thing on the counter. "Storm's?"

Logan was a lot less confrontational than he used to be, but he'd seen a lot more than anyone ought to have seen. Since the first time he'd seen Scott again after fixing the timeline he'd made a bit more effort to play nice with their team leader, but it was hard not to be sentimental. Logan had been visiting his grave yearly for over a decade and suddenly he was back, and Logan's heart was as vulnerable as anyone would expect.

"Damn." Rolling the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows, he let's out a huff. "It looks almost as good as the mango cake we had for Chuck."

"Language." At first, Scott didn't look up from the book he was holding, knowing what Logan was pointing at and feeling comfortable enough with the other men to not make eye contact. It had taken them a long time to get to this point, they still argued on occasion but it was much less malicious than it once had been.

"And that's right. It's one of her favorites." Which meant it was off limits until tomorrow but Scott didn't feel like the clarification was needed. He looked up after Logan mentioned the Professor's cake, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I was rather proud of that one myself."

The cookbook was left on the table, a recipe for some classic chocolate chip cookies visible and Scott started to move around the kitchen to fetch the ingredients. He was wearing a black apron around his waist, a present form one of the kids for Christmas, that read in white letter 'hot stuff coming through'.

"I could be convinced to make a Double lemon, gin and tonic cake for your birthday if you asked nicely. Perhaps." And even if he didn't, Scott would probably do it. Of course, that idea had the added inconvenience that no one was actually sure of when was Logan's b-day but they could pick any day to celebrate it. "If you're hungry and in no rush, I'm making some quick cookies now."

"If you put alcohol in my cake, the kids can't have some." It mattered to him, apparently, but since becoming headmaster Logan felt he'd changed quite a bit in quite a number of ways. "Maybe chocolate mousse instead, Slim."

It took a significant amount of effort to bite back how amusing Scott's apron was -- watching him move about so comfortably in it, with the things that it said. Logan cleared his throat, and he moved towards the table to take a quick peek at the cookbook and the recipe that Scott was currently turned to.

He thought about it for a bit, and supposed that he wasn't necessarily rushing, when push came to shove. Logan was more procrastinating, and he liked to think there was a difference between the two -- at least enough of a difference for him to be able to get a whiff of the fresh baking smell up close. The scents were just as good as tasting the things, he'd learned early on. "You asking me to help you bake?

"I might f...mess it up, you know."

"I'd have made more than one cake, Logan. But chocolate mousse is a good option."

It never stopped surprising Scott, in the best of ways, how much the other man cared. He could remember a time where not having alcohol at all in the kitchen had seemed a failure to Logan but now it felt like a llifetime ago. If there was something Scott knew with certainty is that Logan loved the kids and cared about them more than he probably cared about himself.

As for the apron...Scott, being Scott, didn't exactly get the double entendre when he got it. He assumed it had to do with cooking and it was a nice present, so he always wore it when he was in the kitchen. The first time the Professor had seen it, he had choked on his tea and smiled at him before shaking his head. Scott hadn't questioned his reaction either.

He was grabbing the ingredients from the fridge when Logan's questions came. Scott's lips twitched at the successful attempt of not cursing and he looked over his shoulder with a grin. "You're going to always mess it up if you don't learn. I burned a lot of cookies at the beginning. Wash your hands and get a bowl, you know where those are."

Wash your hands, Scott says, and Logan wonders who the hell this guy thinks he is. At the same time, though, he knows that he's essentially sealed his fate, so he waves his hand lazily with a 'yeah, yeah' before making his way to the kitchen sink and doing as told.

The water runs cold and Logan puffs his cheeks up the whole time he washes. He even uses soap, because God knows he doesn't want Scott scolding him for not doing that on his own. He wipes them on a kitchen towel and resists shoving them back into his pockets, but this leaves him standing there with his hands lifted in mid-air like a doctor before an operation.

He feels a little bit like an idiot.

"Oh -- cripes, the bowl." Which he goes to grab with both hands, though he cringes a little afterward, as if wary this cancels out his handwashing.

Ah, well.

"What do you need another bowl for?" He sets it down on the kitchen island, head tilting slightly as he looks Scott's way. "Thought you already had the dough all figured out."

Scott thinks he's the one with authority in the kitchen because he knows what Fricassee and Bain-marie terms mean, while Logan might do not. Also because Scott wouldn't be Scott if he makes it all easy for Logan. Where's the fun in that?

He watches the man helplessly stand with his hands in mid-air and can't stop himself from laughing when Logan finally remembers the bowl. It was a soft sound of joy that Logan might not recall hearing before form Scott but he really did catch him in a good mood.

"I do but we are going to start again from scratch so you know how to make it. Besides, the more cookies we end with, the better for everyone."

His answer was offered with a kind smile, aimed to sooth the other man's annoyance. Scott almost never got to eat what he cooked, now that he thinks about it. He always leaves the food for the kids or the other teachers that have a sweet tooth.

"Now, this is what we need first..." Taking a step closer, Scott shows the recipe to Logan, points out the quantities of the ingredients and the best tool to use each time.

It's weird hearing Scott laugh, like if snow decided to fall in the Sahara. That being said, the strangeness of it doesn't cancel out the small smile that curves on Logan's own mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkling in fondness up until Scott says they're starting again. Then it's his nose that's crinkling as he makes a face, but it's some testament to maturity that he doesn't do more than look mildly inconvenienced before he stands by Scott's side to read the recipe and listen intently to him.

Logan's no whiz in the kitchen. That means that he'd be able to get things done as long as he had a recipe, but Scott's tips are what turn a simple "can do" to a "can do efficiently". It's not as bad as he thought it'd be, but there's no underlying sense of enjoyment in the baking itself as much as there is a very quiet satisfaction every time Scott gives him his approval for a step well-performed. The most surprising thing of all is how good Logan apparently is at stirring things, but he supposes that's just something to do with measured strength and the ability to control it.

In any case, the dough is finished and Logan is carefully putting blobs of it onto a tray with a tablespoon.

"I can't," he starts quietly, "make them uniform." And he sounds particularly upset with himself about it.

But maybe Scott wouldn't mind.

No matter what some of the students - or even other teachers- believe, Scott does have a sense of humor. It's just that more often than not it gets buries under his long list of worries concerning everyone's well being. But it's because of the times they can relax and ignore the rest of problems that he worries so much.

He almost misses the smile on Logan's face but the scowl is much more familiar and hard to miss. Some sort of complain is expected but when no one comes and Logan actually starts to follow the steps he's left pleasantly surprised. There's no telling if Logan is having fun (Scott doubts it) but they fall into an old practiced dynamic, working on their respective task without getting in the way of the other but within reach in case they need to help each other.

"I'm sure they're not so bad." Scott says as he sets his own cookie tray into the pre-heated oven. He comes to stand beside Logan and takes a look at the blobs and then at Logan's face. No laugh comes out this time but Scott's back at giving him a fond, amused smile.

"They're cookies, the good thing about them is that people will devour them no matter what shape they come in. But maybe..." Turning to open a drawer, Scott looks around until he finds the ice cream scoop and then handles it to Logan. "Works better than the tablespoon. Fill the scoop with the dough, scrape the excess off by using the edge of the bowl, and then release it onto the baking sheet."

Ororo remembers her own birthday, of course, but what she doesn't remember? The man standing in the kitchen, working away on whatever he seems to be making, flipping through the pages of a book. It's not hard to recognize who he is — who else wears glasses like those? — and yet she hesitates at the door.

Not to be rude at all-- merely to silently investigate for a moment before stepping through the arch, her strappy sandals light against the floor, the multiple bangles on her arm jangling as she gets closer.

"You seem busy," she says, lips quirking in the slightest smile as she gestures toward the cooling cake. "Is it someone's birthday today?"

"You are as sneaky as I remember."

It's no wonder it takes her a moment to recognize him. Scott carries himself very different from his teenage years, the smile is less sharp and more welcoming and overall there's less aggressiveness in his stance. Not to say he can't be just as snarky and confrontational as he used to be but Scott has it under control now. Except maybe around Logan.

Her looks are a give-away too, the hair especially, but for a second Scott seems as surprised as she is. Mostly, he's sorry that the surprise factor is gone. Oh well, he should have told one of the students to keep Ororo from coming into the kitchen.

"Not today but tomorrow, which I'm sure you know." He offers another smile and gestures to one of the kitchen chairs. "I guess there's little point in trying to be subtle, feel free to take a seat. I'm Scott."

"I cheat sometimes," she admits with a smile. "Using the currents to float makes me rather quiet."

Storm can't help admiring the way this older Scott presents himself, all casual and friendly-- very unlike the Cyclops she knows back home. If this is the future leader they have to look forward to, she'd have no problem admitting her approval.

In all fairness to Scott, she might have found a way into the kitchen regardless, even with another student stopping her. Once offered the seat, Ororo hops up and clasps both hands across her lap, trying to resist the temptation of cake only an arms-length away.

"Yes, I do, and I feel like I knew that already." She relaxes the slope of her shoulders, earlier grin widening. "While you are not the Scott I know, it's nice to meet you, nonetheless. I may not be the one you know, but I'm Ororo."

"Oh, that explains a lot of things. I think adult you still does it."

She only has to wait a little bit for the teen Summers to mellow. It happened pretty quickly after Apocalypse, sadly most of it had to do with his brother's death. But none of that is in his mind now, he rather focuses on the little friend in front of him.

"In that case..." Scott doesn't miss the way she glances at the cake and seeing Ororo this young reminds him that she didn't have the best life growing up. Putting the book down, Scott reaches out for the cake and leaves it in front of her.

"It's missing the candles and it's 24 hours early but...happy birthday, Ororo." He wasn't going to let anyone touch the cake before tomorrow but it's her cake, so she's the one with dibs on it. "It's a bit weird, all of us from different points in time mixing. My younger self is avoiding me but I am not surprised. I was...kinda difficult back then."

"Good to know I still maintain some semblance of fun when I'm older."

Thankfully, Ororo is one of the more patient X-Men, alongside Jean and Kurt, she imagines. Watching Peter and Jubilee constantly give Scott a hard time for being so uptight usually makes her shake her head, but maybe — after meeting him like this — it actually ends up being good for him.

Her eyebrows raise with bewilderment at being presented the cake, fingers lacing tighter across her thighs. She knows very well that she should wait until her birthday tomorrow, but ... "Thank you, Scott. It's a beautiful cake and I'd love to have a piece, except—" the weather-manipulator hesitates, glances away then abruptly brightens with an idea. "What if we make one that we can eat now and save this one for tomorrow still?" Something small and just for them because leaving the fancy cake for everyone seems fair in her opinion.

Of course, she doesn't wait for an answer before taking initiative by beginning to remove the jewelry decorating her hands and arms. "We all were— erm, are? I suppose we're still learning, but would you willingly go looking around for your younger self?"

Edited (my subject header whaaat) 2018-05-24 20:11 (UTC)

"If you must know, you and Jubilee are the ones with the best sense of humor." Hank is nice too but less inclined to make jokes as the other, and he is...well, he's Scott Summers. He lost most of his sense of humor along the way while growing up. It's a little sad. Scott watches the emotions play on her face with curiosity, knowing far too well how tempting the cack looks yet understanding why she wants to wait. And how can he say no?

"I'd love a cooking partner. We could make something easier and quicker than a cake. What about some cookies?" He's already moving to the fridge to check if they have the necessary ingredients. "We had enver stopped learning, to be honest. And about my teen self, I know exactly where he might be hiding because there are only a few places where I felt really safe. I know he needs some time so I'll talk to him tomorrow or so."

When Scott turns carrying all they need, he's also holding a small bowl with strawberries. Those get offered to Ororo a moment later.

"I bought more strawberries than I could fit in the cake, do you want them? It would be a shame not to eat them now they're fresh. The cookies will still take a bit to be made."

Edited 2018-05-24 22:25 (UTC)

"Is that so? Hm, I'd imagined Peter would be included there." And maybe some people she has yet to meet, but she smiles fondly at the idea, grateful that whatever help the school has given will make her flourish. Plus, Scott's accepted her offer to assist with baking another cake-- there's another reason for enthusiasm!

"Cookies would be perfect. What kind, though?" She spares a glance around the area, hmmming quietly while Scott retrieves ingredients from the fridge. As he does that, Ororo sets about gathering utensils and bowls they'll need, stretching across the way to place them on the counter. "True," she admits, considering he's right. "I think that will be for the best, honestly."

Just when she's placing a whisk into one of the dishes, Scott is handing off strawberries, which Storm takes without hesitance. She nods, almost too vigorously. "Yes, thank you. They look great and as you said—" a pause so she can pick one up, take a quick bite then hum with delight before continuing, "There's no reason for them to go to waste."

"Peter's more on the troublesome side but you're right, he's not that bad." Scott had learned to appreciate and tolerate him more as years went by. They all had to grow old but it seems like growing up was optional for Peter.

"Chocolate ones? They're a classic but everyone loves them." More cakes always make everything better. Her surprise dessert is ruined but cooking together will be just as fun. Scott gives her a nod after that. Thinking about his younger self is still strange, so much had changed, but he wants to make sure they'll be okay coexisting.

"You're welcome." Another easy smile finds its way to his lips. It's sweet how something as simple as strawberry cheers her up. Ah, to be young again. He starts to preheat the oven and then walk Ororo through the first steps of the receipt, it's easy and entertaining, giving them time to chat. "How's the control of your powers? Yours always had been very impressive."

"Peter has always been a troublemaker. He's the oldest out of all of us and he still acts like he's twelve." It's endearing in a way, though-- their eldest teammate keeping them young where it matters.

"As in chocolate chip or chocolate drop cookies? I think they'd both be good either way." Good thing Ororo's great at acting surprised. When the time comes, she'll play it cool and be absolutely shocked at the gorgeous cake Scott has made her, even if she'd already done that a few minutes ago.

With one strawberry down, she takes another, tucking it between her teeth while Scott explains what they'll be doing. Her head tips slightly, eyes flicking up to him and lips quirking when he asks about her powers. The free hand motions toward a large mixing bowl, fingers guiding the brief gust of wind around to urge it closer to them so she can grab it once it's within reach. "As always," Storm reassures.

"Some things never change, no matter the age. But that isn't always bad."

He would agree that it was endearing in a way. Also necessary. The rest of them sometimes were too serious, too focussed on their jobs or mission to enjoy the life they so hard fought to keep safe.

"I was thinking about chocolate chips but I haven't done chocolate drop cookies in a while." And they're delicious, Scott can't get that out of his head now that Ororo has mentioned them. It probably shows in his face, even if his eyes are hidden. "Let's bake these."

Good girl. You do that, Ororo and you're guaranteed more cakes and cookies in your future. Scott laughs when she uses the wind to reach what she needs and then they easily fall into a comfortable team up in the kitchen, working on the ingredients and trying not to get on each other's way.

"You've never been anything less than exceptional so I am not surprised. Can you make snow already?"

"No, it isn't. I would say it's good that at least one of us still has childish tendencies."

And that's exactly why Ororo thinks it's okay. Peter will always be a prankster in her eyes, no matter how much growing up he may (try to) do.

"We could always make both? That way we don't have to decide and we can save the leftovers for tomorrow." Or take them away to their rooms for snacks later. "But making just the chocolate drop cookies is fine with me, too." It saves on ingredients in the long run, despite the fact she'd enjoy having two types of cookies to hand out and all. Perhaps another time.

She likes to believe she can act well, regardless of whomever decides otherwise. For more treats, though? Storm will give her best performance yet-- their double-team on cookies aside, that is.

"You flatter me, Scott." She's smiling, nonetheless. "It's a work in progress, but—" Moving one hand off the bowl she was stirring, her palm upturns and the smallest snow flurry begins forming, raining tiny flakes down onto the counter, which she brushes off into the sink afterward.

"I think most of our actual students are more mature than we ever were at their ages." He's not sure why or if it's really for the best. He knows, however, that the children under Logan and his charge are more ready and less in danger than they were.

After all the things life has thrown and the x-men, they learned to be cautious with the more mundane things, like their home. Those often ended up being the most important things in the long run.

"Wise choice. Both it is, I like that idea better." Scott reaches out and ruffles her mohawk, smiling. "Thinking ahead like a true leader, uh?"

There had been difficult times in their past where he had needed a helping hand and Ororo had always shined when it came to decision making. Scott has no doubt that her younger self will be the same.

"You know I don't give compliments just because. Eh...well of you will realize that in the future, once you talk more to my younger self." Brief as they are, the view of the snow gets a wide smile out of him. "Very nice. Before you know it, you'll be able to make snowmen."

"That's ... more than likely not wrong." In their defense, they were only the second group of X-Men to actually hold that title back in the eighties. Everyone before them had pretty much— well, died.

It's been a rough going, but seeing this Scott and knowing that she and other teammates are still moving forward give her a newfound confidence for the future.

She goes to respond, although the hand mussing up her mohawk makes her hesitate. It's not that she wouldn't expect an older person to do such a thing; the fact that it's Scott is what made her pause. Not for long, though, since she doesn't want him worrying she's offended or anything. "I thought you were in that position," she laughs wholeheartedly. "Have I stolen your job? Or risen up in rank?"

Because she imagines that as they get older, there will be more students, which means more groups that need looking after.

"I do. The younger you and I haven't conversed all that much, but I'm hoping to change that." Ororo softens, head inclining as she returns to stirring the bowl of ingredients. "I'm looking forward to that day."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Open log]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

2 b/c parents in kitchen

The best parents

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

2 how could i resist this chance?

Awww yes :D Bitty Ororo

god scott fdsfgfd i'm dying already

He had forgotten how cute she was as a teen, okay. He wants to ruffle Ro's hair.

fffff do it scott just reach out and ruffle the floof

dsjhads Don't tempt me, he bets it's really soft, but that's not appropriate

what's a little hairfluffing between friends? this is totally fine rofl

Okay then, if she sure won't be offended he might be tempted

she might make a face but ... it'd be cute to her if scott did something affectionate like that

Then if she sure won't mind too much...

not at all x)

Yay~

OH NO he did the thing ;; so cute